


Tainted Love

by NotFlyingWithOtters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But also is Cas, Incubus!Cas, M/M, That is not Cas, There is an incubus, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotFlyingWithOtters/pseuds/NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cas..." He whispered, sliding his fingers through his hair and feeling a familiar tiredness envelope him. "I never knew you felt about me that way." He breathed as he slipped away on the wings of a dream.  Cas smirked and licked at the mark on Dean's neck, feeding on the energy that poured forth as Dean fell deeper into unconsciousness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ColieDuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColieDuck/gifts).



> Incubus lore: They particularly enjoy assuming the form of someone their intended victim loves or trusts, or else feels an overpowering but forbidden desire for.

_The hands that bound him were strong, encasing his body in an iron grip that not even his true form could break. It was like they flexed with each movement his body made, the hands forming into tight chains that angel blades were made from._

_“Hush, Castiel…” A voice hissed from beside him, taking on his gravelly tones as it petered out. “I won’t harm you.” Cas closed his eyes, trying to shift the chains that tied him down even slightly, but to no avail. “Just let me look at you…” It whispered in his voice, the cool hands now trailing across his sides and along his back, leaving trails of residue reminiscent of something long dead and festering. “Perfect…” The voice dropped a few more tones until it reached the perfect pitch of Cas’, speaking to him in his own tongue. Enochian poured from the mouth of the imposter, strengthening the chains around his torso. There was a pouring of smoke around Cas, sulphur lacing the air, and then a silence._

* * *

 

Dean bowed his head, glittering green eyes cast onto the faded carpet below his feet, scuffed from years of people pacing beside the very bed he was now sat upon. His eyes dropped closed and his hands found one another across his lap, fingers linked together.

“I’m prayin’, Cas.” He said out loud, his voice unnaturally loud in the confines of the cheap motel room somewhere near their job. “Are you listening?” He hoped the angel was, he needed him to be listening to his voice, and he needed his help. Taking a few stabilizing breaths, the hunter clenched his hands together and rested his chin on his hands for a moment. “I don’t know if I can do this. It’s too big.” He opened his eyes a moment. “I need your help.” He looked across at Sam’s body on the bed, chest rising and falling shallowly with every breath. Since accidentally kick-starting the apocalypse a few hours ago, he’d collapsed into a heavy sleep. “Please?” His voice dropped to nothing. There was a soft flutter of wings and the angel appeared behind him.

“Dean.” The voice was soft around the edges and he turned, looking towards him in silence.

“Cas…” His voice broke. “Cas I can’t fix this.” He whispered, looking down at his hands nervously and simultaneously sadly.

“Dean, it’s not all on your head.” The angel’s voice was a gentle breath in the silence of the room, not enough to make Sam stir at all, but enough to hold Dean captivated by the way the sounds rolled from his tongue.

“I started this, Cas.” His voice trembled and then broke a bit. “’When a righteous man sheds blood in hell.’ That was me. I did this!” He closed his eyes and looked down, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Sam may have finished this, but it was my fault it started.” It was not often he was comfortable enough to be weak in front of someone, and it was only Cas that he felt truly himself with – not even Sam.

“It would have come to pass with or without your input.” Cas consoled him softly, sitting down on the bed beside him.

“No, Cas. It’s me, all this is on my head.”

“No, Dean. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself. It is written in the law of God that this would come to pass. It has always been this way.” The angel’s words were a comfort, and Dean found himself gravitating towards him, not noticing the way they touched, Cas’ fingers resting on his wrist and the queer sense of tiredness that enveloped him.

“Cas I’m so tired.” He whispered as the angel leaned towards him, his hand gently resting on his thigh. He breathed in and looked up, tired moss green eyes meeting stormy blue, the twisting shadows of silver light chasing each other behind the iris.

“I know.” Cas told him, his face a few centimeters from Dean’s. Another time, Dean would have told him about personal space but now? He closed his eyes, leaned in, and kissed him.

* * *

 

Dean winced as Cas' fingers dug into his hips, the angels mouth pressed to his neck as he moved inside of him, thrusts hard and dirty - something Dean had never thought possible of him. He groaned as teeth scraped his neck, making shudders run down his spine. He had barely been touched by Cas' hand when he was coming, body quaking as his head dropped back against the pillows. Cas remained draped over him, mouth pressed against his neck. A post orgasmic haze weakened him and he faded out for a few minutes, warm under Cas' body. 

"Cas..." He whispered, sliding his fingers through his hair and feeling a familiar tiredness envelope him. "I never knew you felt about me that way." He breathed as he slipped away on the wings of a dream.  Cas smirked and licked at the mark on Dean's neck, feeding on the energy that poured forth as Dean fell deeper into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

_Cas struggled against the chains, finally finding the weakest link and bursting his wings forth, the silvered links clattering to a pile at his feet. He could feel Dean's mind settle into a sated sleep, but something was prolonging it, draining him. There was a silence as Cas tried to find him, his entire consciousness reaching out to find the creature that wore his skin but was not him and Dean. He closed his eyes to heighten the feeling, latching onto Dean just as he felt him wake._

* * *

 

Dean blinked into consciousness and rolled over lethargically, reaching for Cas. The angel was propped up, watching him, his hands on his chest.

"Hello..." He smiled and leaned up to kiss him, his mouth pressed against Cas’ lips. There was a soft flutter of wings and he turned, immediately latching onto Cas at the sight of another Cas appearing in front of him.

“Dean!” Cas’ voice was rough, husky from screaming against the bonds, his true form escaping the throat of his vessel and scorching it. It was simple enough to heal, but his mind had been on Dean completely, the complete flood of tangled emotions that he’d once never understood but now was beginning to comprehend. “Dean.” His voice dropped.

“Cas?” Dean looked at the Cas in his arms, the queer lethargy filling him once more. “Cas… Which one is you?” His hands curled into the shirt of the Cas in the bed with him. Cas’ heart ached where he stood, and he took a few careful strides towards the bed, his hand already glowing and his wings bursting from his back. In seconds, he had his hand over the mouth of the creature that wore his skin and the scent of sulphur filled the air. Light poured from the eyes of the creature and it collapsed into the sheets, a blackened husk of raw evil, smoke curling from its scorched limbs.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice was soft and he placed two fingers on the dead demon, the blackened body vanishing from the room. Dean looked around, his eyes going wide as he placed a hand on his neck, the pain suddenly rising in full force. “Your neck.” Cas sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor and not turning his gaze on Dean. Dean ran his fingers over the mark where whatever the creature was had been feeding on his energy, drawing it of his body. He burned.

“I had… I had sex with that.” Cas remained, elbows on his knees and looking at his feet, trying to reign in the stab of loathing at himself for not getting there sooner.

“Yes.” He said softly.

“Do you uh… Have… That mole on the inside of your thigh?” Cas’ head snapped up.

“What?” He looked over at Dean. “What, Dean?” He shifted a little uncomfortably and played with his tie.

“The… other you had this adorable mole just on the inside of his thigh. Is that you? Or was that… it?” He smiled a little bashfully, his tired mental state making him want to cuddle up with Cas, maybe let the real him fuck him slowly into the mattress of the cheap motel bed. Cas blushed a little and nodded, his hand automatically resting over it on his leg. Dean sat up with effort and leaned over to kiss his cheek, too drained to really notice what he was doing.

“Dean…?” He asked softly, turning a little to place his fingers over the burn mark on Dean’s skin. “Do you… Want this?” He asked softly.

“Yes.” He whispered, turning and catching Cas’ lips with his own, pulling the angel closer with his tie, winding the smooth material around his hand.

“Oh.” Cas replied, leaning forward to kiss him again and straddling his hips, placing his hand on Dean’s cheek, the tie keeping him close to Dean’s chest. Dean smiled against his lips and relinquished his grip on the tie, removing it with clumsy hands.

“This is good.” Dean whispered, his hand resting on Cas’ cheek. Cas nodded, his expression still sad. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Cas. You’re here now.” The trench coat and jacket slipped from his shoulders and he looked down at Dean as his slow hands unbuttoned Cas’ shirt and pushed it aside, letting it drop to the floor, revealing Cas’ faintly tanned chest and defined muscle. Cas ran his fingers over Dean’s chest and leaned down to kiss the mark that, the creature he’d remembered was an incubus, had made. The angel was less of a blushing virgin now, having seen himself in the future. He lean down and kissed him on the mouth, placing Dean’s hand on the button of his trousers, his belt unbuckled.

“It’s okay Dean.” He whispered softly, Dean’s fingers curling under his trousers and boxers, pulling them down his legs. Somehow he lost his shoes and he straddled naked Dean with his own naked form, leaning to kiss him.  “How long since the… incubus had you?” He breathed, enjoying how pliant Dean was under his hands.

“Not long.” Dean replied, his eyes hazy as he lifted his hips slightly and placed a hand on Cas’ hips, urging him forwards and into his tight, wet heat. Cas leaned down and kissed him as he pushed into Dean, already loose due to the incubus. It was something to be remembered, Cas running his hands over Dean’s warm sides, and Dean so dozy that he just trailed his hands down Cas’ back, making Cas want to learn him more, understand him, love him in a way the hunter had never felt. Dean weakly arched his hips up as the angel thrust in and out of him, Cas bracing himself either side of Dean’s torso.

“Dean…” Cas’ voice was soft and he placed his hand on his chest, lowering his head slightly. A few words of Enochian slipped past his tongue and he kissed Dean quickly, his hand resting against his shoulder. Dean looked up at him, vision still hazy and warm from the energy the incubus had drained from him.

“Cas.” He smiled and looked down, his hand resting on Cas’ hips to urge him onwards, to get him deeper inside of him. “You do have the mole.” His smile faltered a little as a ripple of pleasure jolted through him, making his back arch slightly. Cas laughed a little at how dopey Dean was, how pliant and easy he was to pleasure like this.

“Dean…” A wave of pleasure was crashing, the brink coming close as Dean fluttered around him. Cas gently closed his hand around Dean’s cock and worked it, making Dean fall apart around him, streaking their chests with come. A few more shallow thrusts and he too was coming apart inside of Dean, his body quivering from the strength of the emotion that had come with that. Dean was still pretty out of it, his hand resting on Cas’ shoulder as the angel pulled out and curled around his charge, his human, leaning his head on his shoulder.

“What did you say to me?” He asked softly, a more natural lethargy taking over now. “When you spoke Enochian?” His voice was soft, as it had been in their lovemaking, careful not to wake Sam from the depths of his slumber – the younger Winchester was world-weary and bone tired, aching all over. Dean looked over at his brother, as if checking he was still breathing, and then turned back to Cas.

“It… Meant… I told you how beautiful you were, Dean, If the sentiment is too much I shall not say it again.” Dean placed a finger over Cas’ lips.

“It’s fine, Cas.” He murmured, turning over and facing him as the post-orgasmic haze coupled with the complete exhaustion at the hands of the incubus took over. “Really fine.” Dean placed his hand on Cas’ chest. “Stay.” He whispered before succumbing to the tide that washed over him, dragging him into a natural state of unconsciousness and rest.

Cas lay and watched Dean’s chest rise and fall, as he had promised, he watched over him. The apocalypse may be drawing near, the hour of fate and destiny may be encroaching upon their fragile shell of family; but for now Cas could forget about that, forget about his brothers and their futile squabble for ownership, and just enjoy the love of a human that he had given so much for – and now gained so much in return.


End file.
